“Yes, this is indeed the portrait of the scholar looking at the infant in the cradle. What an assemblage of the noblest sentiments of the human mind produce Compassion—love, tenderness and care for the object—self is for the time totally forgotten. How different, my dear children, is this face from that of the surly bailiff!
“The officers now took their leave, with each a servile bow, when the poor widow, overcome by the kindness and generosity of the young scholar, fell upon her knees, and invited her little children to do the like, that they might thank God for having sent an angel to their succour; while the old man, who was sitting by the fireside, lifted up his hands in a silent prayer to Heaven, and wept for joy.
“The young scholar embraced the mother and all her little ones, among whom he generously distributed the remainder of the louis in his purse, and then took his leave, promising to see them again very soon.
“Henry mounted his horse amidst the acclamations of the people, who had surrounded the house, and had heard of the way in which he had employed his time. Dieu vous benira, ‘God will bless you,’ was reiterated from every mouth.
“The young scholar kept his promise, for he often visited the cottage of the poor widow, and represented her amiableness and situation in such lively colours to the marchioness his mother, that she took the whole family under her protection, placed them in a little way of business, and helped them until by their own industry they had made themselves independent.
“This, my dear children, was true generosity. The object was worthy: the donor had the means to make happy; none were injured by the gift; no just claims were left unpaid, and a poor family were made happy.
“This narrative will show you also, my dear children, the power and goodness of the Almighty, who, by his Providence, ordered it so, that what appeared to the poor widow as her greatest misfortune should turn out to be the very means of affording her and her children a future provision, and that much more ample than she could have expected. Thus, my dear children, ‘Providence, when none appears, can find itself a way.’”
Mr. Willock had no sooner finished his story, than he had the pleasure to observe his young people occupied in very serious reflections on what they had heard. “My dear children,” said he, “I am very much pleased for the attention you have paid, and for the interest you have taken in the misfortunes of the good widow. I shall leave you to enjoy the thoughts of her good fortune, and of the change produced in her affairs by the generosity of the young scholar. To-morrow evening, I will tell you a story of another kind, where I shall have to represent to you some of the worst of the passions of the human mind, such as you will hate and detest, when you see their ugliness and deformity.”